Pumpkin Hunt
by Annaem
Summary: This was my entry in Harmony podcast's Halloween competition. A cute one shot, not too heavy on romance. I tried to be as loyal to the books as possible and introduce the romantic aspect in a way I think Rowling might do it. Pairs: HHr, plus Ron and other


**PUMPKIN HUNT **

"Pumpkin Hunt," Ron said and stared at a piece of parchment in his hand. "_The 57th Hogwarts Pumpkin Hunt will take place on Hallowe'en, at 6 pm in the Great Hall. Those wishing to participate must register with their Head of House by October 3rd (no late registrations). The winner will be awarded a Grand Prize of 500 galleons_. Crikey, Harry, today's the third!" Ron pressed his long lose into the parchment. "I'm definitely in. You?"

"Um, sure," said Harry, flicking through the pages of "Moste Potente Potions".

"Oh, drop it," Ron said irritably. "You know Snape will never give you a decent grade, no matter how hard you try. And who cares, anyway? There's a Grand Prize of 500 galleons to be won."

"No reason you can't care about homework _and_ be excited about the Grand Prize," someone said briskly, and an immensely thick book thumped on the table opposite Harry.

"Hi Hermione," Harry said absent-mindedly and continued searching for the ingredients of a Hair-Raising Potion. Quite honestly, he couldn't muster the enthusiasm Ron seemed to expect; he already had enough gold in his vault at Gringotts. But he did want to write a decent essay and prevent the wrath of the slimy Potions Master.

"So, you have to find ten pumpkins?" Hermione asked and picked up the leaflet.

"Yeah, they'll hide fifty mini pumpkins in the castle, and whoever first finds ten of them wins," Ron said.

"You're going to participate, Hermione?" Harry raised his eyes from the book.

"Of course," Hermione said. "I want to buy the Wizarding Dictionary, and it costs almost four hundred galleons."

"The Wizarding Dictionary?" Ron wailed. "That's like 50 books!"

"57 with all the additional volumes," Hermione said, blushing. "I wasn't sure I wanted the Quidditch volume or the History of the Broomstick volume, but then I thought there's no reason not to get the whole set."

"If you get it, I'll borrow those two volumes," Harry said. "Come on," he said to Ron, who was gaping at Hermione darkly. "I bet the Quidditch volume has loads about the Chudley Cannons."

Ron grunted.

"Oh, there's professor Flitwick," Hermione said and picked up her giant book. "Must dash. See you later!"

Harry returned to his essay, but Ron kept gazing into the air with a dreamy look in his eyes. Suddenly, he started so that his elbow poked deep into Harry's ribs.

"Ouch," Harry said and rubbed his side.

"Harry, look!" Ron had straightened up, and his eyes were fixed on a girl that had just entered the Great Hall. She had bright red hair, and her figure was very curvy. Harry thought she looked quite a bit like Mrs Weasley.

"Isn't she pretty?" Ron breathed.

"Er, sure."

"I must go," Ron said and stood up. "See you later, Harry! Oh, and don't forget to register for the Hunt!"

Harry nodded, but stayed in the Hall until darkness fell. He had finally managed to find something called a "Hair-Holding Potion", and while he wasn't sure it was the right one, he had copied it down anyway and based his essay on it. He picked up his books and slouched to the stairs, yawning.

"There you are, Potter." Professor McGonagall emerged from the shadows as Harry reached the Gryffindor common room. "I've been looking all over for you. You haven't yet registered for the Hallowe'en Pumpkin Hunt."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of participating..."

"Of course you will participate!" McGonagall's mouth tightened ominously. "The Pumpkin Hunt takes place only every five years, and a Slytherin has won seven times in a row. I will _not_ have Professor Snape wave a pumpkin victoriously in my face again. I trust your Snitch-catching skills will help our house gain the glory. Good night."

"So, have you come up with any strategies for the Pumpkin Hunt?" Hermione asked at breakfast on Hallowe'en morning.

Harry shook his head and frowned. "I'm up to my scalp with homework, especially with Snape making me rewrite that Hair-Raising Potion essay."

"You're still struggling with that?" Hermione said breezily. "The recipe's on page 673, buried in the paragraph about dragon toes."

"Cheers," Harry said, secretly wondering why he hadn't asked her before. "So, do you have any strategies cooked up?"

"Sure," Hermione said and buttered a piece of toast. "I've made lots of calculations and probability patterns."

"You really want that prize, don't you?"

Hermione nodded.

"I've wanted to get the Wizarding Dictionary ever since I started at Hogwarts. Did you know it updates magically? The writer team improves it regularly, and the changes show up in your copy right away. It's amazing, but I could never ask Mum and Dad for such a sum of money. Is that Ron?"

Harry turned to look. It was Ron indeed, snuggled up with the plump red-haired girl whose name (and whole life story) Harry now knew.

"Yeah, Ron and Matilda," he said.

"They're kind of close, aren't they?" Hermione asked, studying the pair. "I haven't seen Ron in ages."

Harry scratched his nose. "Does it bother you?"

Hermione shrugged and popped another piece of toast in her mouth.

"No. Obviously, I did consider him once, but I think we're better off just being friends. That Matilda seems to suit him well. She really reminds me of someone, though..." Hermione threw Harry a mischievous look, and soon they were giggling behind their pumpkin juice glasses.

"If I were you, I would not be so frivolous, Potter," said a scathing voice behind Harry.

"Sorry, Professor Snape," Harry said, glancing over his shoulder.

"But then, you are _precious Potter_, and _precious Potter_ has his own set of rules. If _precious Potter_ wants to bother others by obnoxious laughter at breakfast, he can," Snape said, each word slithering off his tongue like a poisonous snake. 'Then again, perhaps _precious Potter_ is preparing for the Pumpkin Hunt? One more chance to turn the spotlight to himself." With a last, loathsome look at Harry, Snape swooped away, his black robes billowing.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks, drained their glasses and set out to the Charms class. Not that there was much work in any class that day, as most students were anticipating the Hunt and paying absolutely no attention to the teachers.

"I couldn't practically hear a thing in Arithmancy," Hermione complained as she and Harry descended the stairs in the evening to join the others in the Great Hall. "I'm sure I missed some vital information that's going to turn up in the exams! I think I'll have to go through today's lesson again on my own."

Harry hid his grin. "You sure are the most ambitious girl I've ever met."

"Well, if you have a good brain, why not use it," Hermione said and took out a piece of parchment. Harry saw that it contained complex diagrams and a hand-drawn map.

"I've calculated the most effective route to scan the castle for the pumpkins," Hermione said. "And I've found out the quickest ways to get back to the Hall from various parts of the castle. You never know where you find the last pumpkin, so you need to have a plan to get back fast."

"Wow," Harry said and studied the map. "That's impressive. I really hope you win."

"Thanks," Hermione said.

Right then, someone slapped her on the shoulder so that she nearly fell over.

"Hate to break it to you, Hermione, but you don't stand a chance. George and I have a foolproof plan to bag that sweet sack of galleons," Fred Weasley said.

"We simply can't lose," George said. "Among other things, we've spiced up the Summoning Charm a bit. Those sweet, orange orbs will just fly into our eagerly awaiting laps."

"That sounds illegal," Hermione said suspiciously. "Didn't you learn anything with that Aging Potion you took for the Triwizard Tournament?"

"That was bad luck. Could've happened to anyone," Fred said, beaming.

"Simple misfortune," George added and patted Hermione on the back. "You poor thing. Maybe you'll win Witch Weekly's monthly prize draw of ten galleons."

Hermione let out a puff and marched to the Great Hall. Harry hurried after her. The Hall was already full of people, and almost everybody was sporting various methods of how to win. Ron was standing in a corner near the entrance.

"Hiya Harry!" he said. "So you're participating after all?"

"Yeah, McGonagall made me, she's determined that a Gryffindor win this time. Apparently, a Slytherin has won seven times in a row."

"And looks like they intend to win again," Ron said and scowled at Draco Malfoy, who was talking very loudly, surrounded by a herd of Slytherin girls.

"_...yeah, don't need the money, of course. 500 galleons is pocket money for me, but since it's a tradition that Slytherin win this Hunt, I thought I'd help to grab the prize_..."

Ron shook his head.

"Do you get an irresistible urge to push his head into a big, juicy pumpkin?"

"Yeah. Hey, do you want to hunt for the pumpkins together?" Harry asked and prodded Ron's arm playfully. "We haven't seen each other a lot lately."

Ron pulled a face. "Sorry, mate. I'm waiting for Matilda, I promised her we'd hunt together. But maybe we can shoot some loops tomorrow?"

"Sure," Harry said and forced a smile. "You have fun. See you."

Without waiting for a reply, Harry turned away. He had no desire to hunt for the pumpkins, but Ron's company would have made it at least tolerable. He steered his way through the crowd, looking for Hermione, but Professor McGonagall was already clapping her hands.

"Will everybody please be quiet! Mr Weasley, use of Ogling Goggles is not permitted! And Mr Longbottom, will you _please_ call a house-elf to clean up that mess!"

Neville bent down to brush aside a pile of broken glass, which had a moment earlier been a plate with a Cornish Pasty on it.

"I know you're all aflutter with anticipation," said Professor Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "But please remember to play fair, and keep in mind...it's not the pot of gold that counts, but the rainbowthat leads to it."

Harry heard Draco Malfoy sniff mockingly.

"Whoever first steps over this line carrying ten pumpkins is the winner," Professor McGonagall said and drew a glowing, golden line on the floor with her wand. "Good luck, everyone. Now, on the count of three -Mr Weasley, you _cannot_ use an enchanted fishing rod!- one...two...three...GO!"

Harry was almost knocked flat by the rush of people around him, and he pressed himself against the wall. Soon the Hall was empty of students.

"Harry! Off you go!" Professor McGonagall waved her hand, while Professor Snape's lip curled contently.

"Tsk tsk, Potter. Losing your..._nerve_?"

Harry straightened himself and wandered to the stairs. He didn't see anybody else than Neville trying to persuade the hiccoughing Winky the house-elf to follow him to the Great Hall. Harry wandered aimlessly along the corridors, until he found himself in the seventh floor near the South Tower. Sir Cadogan was standing in his painting in a watchful position.

"And here comes the savvy lad! Congratulations, sir!"

"Er, what?"

"Here, my brave fellow!" Sir Cadogan stretched out his hand, which was holding a fat little pumpkin. "I was given the dangerous task of beholding this vegetable until its rightful owner would beseech it."

"Um, cheers," Harry said and took the pumpkin. Sir Cadogan tried to challenge him to a swordfighting match, but Harry retreated to the stairs.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," Harry said and turned around. "Hermione, there you are! I was looking for you earlier."

"Oh Harry, I don't have the time to chat," Hermione said in despair. "I have eight pumpkins, and I need to find two more really fast. I just heard Draco Malfoy boast to Pansy Parkinson that he has nine already! There may not be many more available! And if nobody finds ten pumpkins, the prize won't be awarded at all!"

"Well, here's one more, so now you have nine, too," Harry said and rolled the pumpkin into Hermione's lap. "I'll help you; I bet there's at least one more somewhere. On second thought, let me carry those." He took the pumpkins from Hermione, who immediately dug out her map.

"I've checked the dungeons, the classrooms, the girls' bathroom, the prefects' bathroom, the trophy room, the kitchens -the dormitories and the teachers' offices are out of bounds, it's in the rules. I can't think of any other places," Hermione said miserably. "I bumped into Dean and Seamus a while ago, and they had been combing the corridors."

"Nobody seemed to look around in the Great Hall, though," Harry said as they walked down the stairs.

"Harry, that's it!" Hermione stopped and grabbed Harry by the arm. "Of course, the Great Hall! Nobody's looking in _there_. Come on!"

They ran down the stairs and arrived panting in the Great Hall.

"Ah!" Professor McGonagall hurried towards them. "I knew I could trust in you, Potter!"

"We don't have ten pumpkins yet, Professor," Harry said, and Snape smirked behind McGonagall's back. Hermione didn't even look at the teachers; she was walking by the walls and peeking under the long house tables.

"Hmph," said Professor McGonagall. "Get on with it, then."

"Harry!" Hermione cried and pointed at the Sorting Hat, which was lying on a little table on the side. "What's it doing here?" She knocked down a chair and sprinted across the Hall. Quickly, she lifted the Hat in the air.

A chubby pumpkin was glowing on the table.

"Harry, we won!"

"Not yet, Granger!"

Harry turned to look. Draco Malfoy was standing in the doorway, a pile of pumpkins in his lap. Like a lightning, he spurted towards the golden line.

"HARRY, CATCH IT!"

Hermione had thrown the tenth pumpkin towards Harry.

"Get it, Potter!" Professor McGonagall bellowed.

Without thinking, Harry leaped forward. He staggered, trying to position himself on the path of the falling pumpkin without dropping the ones he was already holding. Malfoy was only a few steps from the line... Harry bolted onwards, felt the pumpkin land in his lap and skidded on, falling on the cold, hard floor. The pumpkins rolled under the tables and fireworks of shouts erupted in his ears.

"HE CHEATED!"

"HARRY, WE WON!"

"I WILL NOT ACCEPT THIS! DRACO IS THE RIGHTFUL WINNER!"

Harry felt a multitude of bushy hair block his vision. Hermione helped him up and squeezed him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Thanks so much, Harry!" she said, her eyes shining. "Or, actually... I think we should split the prize. I couldn't have done this without you."

"Nonsense," Harry said with a cough. "You deserve it. But I was just thinking..." He scratched his neck awkwardly. "Maybe we could, um, study that Quidditch volume together? I could, er, explain some, er, Quidditch stuff to you."

"I'd like that," Hermione whispered. "I'd like that very much."

And with that said, she reached to give Harry a kiss that tasted just like pumpkin.


End file.
